Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Taylor, age 10, is a funny girl who seems to live entirely in her own little world. She is one of those "book smart" kids who isn't always aware of the real world going on around her. This lends itself to some interesting conversations:

Taylor: (out of the blue) "Isn't it amazing that Ozzy Osbourne was in 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat'?!? He did such a great job!"ME: (chuckling) "Uh, yeah, that would be amazing. But, honey, that wasn't Ozzy Osbourne."Taylor: (in her 'well-duh' voice) "It was totally Ozzy Osbourne. I looked at the end credits and everything. Hellooooo! He was the star of the show! He was Joseph!"ME: (laughing) "Ozzy Osbourne was NOT Joseph in that play! You're talking about Donny Osmond..."Taylor: (cutting me off) "That's what I said! Ozzy Osbourne. Anyways, I had no idea that he was such a fantastic actor. And singer!"ME: (laughing) "Ozzy's something else, all right. And some people think he's a good singer, but he was definitely NOT in 'Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.'"Taylor: (sigh) "Go look it up, Mom. He's Joseph! And what's even more amazing is that he can sing and act when you consider that he's blind."ME: "He's blind?!?"Taylor: (heavy sigh) "Don't you ever look at magazines, Mom? He's always wearing his blind glasses. In real life, anyways. He is inspirational."ME: "I don't even know what to tell you right now."(ironically, Donny Osmond and Ozzy Osbourne were actually on the same television program this week- "Dancing With the Stars". How surreal to have the two of them together! I nearly dragged Taylor out of bed to witness the sources of her confusion, but decided against it. And, truthfully, Ozzy's glasses do make him look visually impaired.)

Taylor: "I am doing my history report on John F. Kennedy. He was such a great president."ME: "Oh, that would be a neat report to write. I did a lot of research on him when I was in high school. It's so sad about how he died."Taylor: "Yeah... that darn cancer."ME: "Ummm, sweetie, JFK was assassinated."Taylor: "I know. By cancer. Was it lung cancer?"ME: "Um, no, it wasn't cancer at all. He was killed."Taylor: "By cancer. I know. I wrote all about it in my report."ME: "Oh, dear. Really? Did you write that in your report? Have you already turned it in? Cuz he didn't die of cancer, honey. He was shot."Taylor: (gasping) "No way! That was Lincoln!"ME: "Yes, Lincoln, too. But John F. Kennedy was also shot and killed."Taylor: "I think you're wrong."ME: "No, honey, really. JFK was shot! If you researched him, you must have read that."Taylor: (pause) "Oh... yeah, now that I think about it, I remember. He WAS shot! But it wasn't that big of a deal. It didn't kill him. He survived it. And THEN he died of cancer."ME: (completely stumped) "Honey, please don't make me pull up the Zapruder films. Seriously, he was shot. He lost most of the top of his head, and he didn't survive it. Where exactly are you getting your research materials from?"Taylor: "Well now you're just being sick. I don't want to think about somebody's head being shot."(heavy pause while both of us are confused beyond belief.)Taylor: "Well, at least he had a good acting career. Not all presidents can say that."ME: "Honey, did you maybe do your report on Ronald Reagan?"Taylor: "Oh, yeah! That's who it was! Ronald Reagan. He was such a great president."(and Taylor walks away, completely unfazed, while I'm left slightly traumatized by the entire conversation.)

Last spring. Taylor was in her school production of "The Wizard of Oz", proudly playing the great Oz himself. This performance coincided with a Broadway production of "Wicked" here in Jacksonville, and we were lucky enough to get tickets through her school's drama club. Carter, who was already familiar with the play came with Taylor and I. On the drive over, he put the Wicked CD in for us all to hear. About 5 songs into it, Taylor pipes up from the backseat: "Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! This Wicked play is a total rip-off of The Wizard of Oz! Are you kidding me? They like totally copycatted the whole thing. They even use the name Glinda, like in our play. Unbelievable! Talk about a lack of creativity!"

And so you can see why so many times we are left speechless (and utterly baffled) by our Taylor girl! There's never a dull moment with her around!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Now that Tanner is in kindergarten, he is very etiquette-conscious. A few weeks ago, he burped at the table and said, "Oh, part-of-me! That was very rude." We gave him a curious look, so he elaborated, "Now that I'm a big kid, I don't say 'excuse me' anymore, I say 'part of me.'"

All manners aside, it's been a week of various maladies at our home: Carter had strep throat, Tanner had pneumonia, and Quinn threw his back out while reaching for a file in his office chair. (What is he? 90?!?) Sydney has taken it upon herself to nurse the sick in our home, which sometimes gets interesting. I left her in the room for a moment and returned to find Tanner, burning up with fever, wrapped in a bedsheet, towel, and fluffy boa:

Later that day, Riley was sitting in the hallway, crying because I wouldn't let her watch SpongeBob Squarepants. Ever the maternal one, Sydney was concerned about her poor wailing sister, so she ran off and returned with a bottle of Johnson & Johnson's Baby Shampoo. "Look, Riley, this is the stuff for no more tears... that means no more sadness. Dump it on your head!"

And, after the SpongeBob debacle, I continued my reign of terror by only allowing Bailey to have one packet of Scooby Doo fruit snacks. She begged and pleaded for a second, but I held my ground, so she stomped her little feet and dramatically threw herself onto the couch. Between crying jags, she looked up at me and wailed, "You're ruining my whole darn life!"

Later that night, while tucking her in, she was back to her affectionate self. I couldn't help but ask, "So, am I still ruining your whole darn life?" She got a sheepish grin and said, "Oh... just kiddin' bout that."

Wow, the power I wield to be able to ruin entire darn lives by merely withholding fruit snacks and SpongeBob. To my poor, emotionally-damaged children, I have but one thing to say: part of me!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

After 3 long weeks of the girls asking me EVERY day, "Is today our ballet day?", the long-awaited moment arrived. The girls had their first ballet lesson yesterday and it was quite possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen! They loved every minute of it and have been running around on their "tippy tippy toes" and doing "plee-ay-sees" ever since. And they keep asking me to do "ballet hair" for them again.

Wednesdays can't come soon enough for any of us! Special thanks to Shauna, who has the patience of a saint and is doing lessons at the church out of the goodness of her heart!

Kelly's Playlist

Bastian bunch

December 2007

Description of Title...

About “I Don’t Want Plenty, I Want Too Much”:

Several months ago, one of my triplets was distraught when her sister pirated some of her goldfish crackers. “Don’t worry,” I told her. “We have plenty.” “But I don’t want plenty…” she wailed. “I want too much.”

Whoa, I thought. Profound. In one astute little sentence, my two-year-old managed to articulate the major struggle for modern woman. “Plenty” is great, but come on, don’t we really want it all? Aren’t we all guilty of shooting for the “too much?”

When she looked at me, bewildered, I grinned. “I know exactly what ya mean. I want too much, too.” And somehow this seemed worth rewarding. So I dumped the rest of the goldfish into her eagerly awaiting little hands.